


varying definitions of ‘fine’

by thorbiased



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Blood and Injury, Brodinsons, F/M, Gen, Hiding Injuries, Hurt Thor, Hurt/Comfort, Loki is a Good Bro, Physical hurt/comfort, Post-Ragnarok, TW - Needles, Thor Is Being Kind of Stupid, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:35:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28376328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thorbiased/pseuds/thorbiased
Summary: Thor huffed. “Aye. You don’t need to worry about me. I appreciate the concern, though.”Brunnhilde pursed her lips and cast a knowing look to Heimdall, who gave her a nod of what looked like permission. “Prove it.”“Pardon?”“Prove you’re alright. Stand up,” she said.There was a smug look in her eye. She thought she had him. Thor was prepared to prove her wrong.“Sure thing.”
Relationships: Thor & Brunnhilde | Valkyrie, Thor & Heimdall, Thor & Loki, Thor/Brunnhilde | Valkyrie (if you squint)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 56





	varying definitions of ‘fine’

**Author's Note:**

> hello again ! im here with some thor whump and nothing more

There was not a position Thor could sit in that eased the pain in his back. If he had his way, he’d lie face down on the floor. Of course, a meeting with his council was not an appropriate place to do so, so he sat on the edge of his seat, trying to keep his still-unhealed wounds from touching the back of the chair. 

They should’ve been healed by now. It had been three days since Ragnarok. The stab wounds Hela had inflicted were not deep. Not deep enough to persist like they had. He’d had to rewrap them three times just that day. It wasn’t normal. He needed to see a healer. There just wasn’t time. Between meetings like these, handling supplies, seeing to the individual needs of the people, trying to de-Hulk Banner...there just hadn’t been enough time. 

But now he was having trouble staying focused on whatever Agatha, one of the few surviving members of Loki-Odin’s court, was saying. Her high, flitting little voice was like broken glass in his ears. And his back was on  _ fire _ . His head ached, too, all stemming from his empty eye socket. That needed to be attended to, as well. His own shoddy attempt at packing it with gauze and covering it with an old leather eyepatch wouldn’t stave off infection, sadly. 

“...our rations will last us another month,” someone said. Thor looked up. That voice was too deep to be Agatha, so… Ah, Heimdall. “There is another outpost close by. I suggest we stop there.” 

“There’s a large amount of alcohol on the ship,” Brunnhilde said. Thor has appointed her as part of his council, much to the chagrin of Loki, who was still angry with her over their fight, “As loathe as I am to trade away good booze, it would fetch a large sum if the outpost was one of a less reputable sort.”

Heimdall looked away briefly, then nodded. “I believe this outpost fits that description.” 

Thor hummed. “That settles it then,” he said brightly. He smiled, but just then, a wave of pain rolled through him and it came out as more of a grimace. “Shall we end here?” 

“I see no reason why we shouldn’t end on a high note,” Birger, another of Odin’s council, said helpfully. Thor had always liked him. He was a cheerful fellow, optimistic. “Until the next meeting, my king.” 

Thor nodded at him as he stood. The rest of the council stood, too, some less enthusiastic than others. It was only until they’d gone that Thor realized they hadn’t  _ all  _ gone. Heimdall and Brunnhilde still sat at the table, their eyes trained on Thor with intensity. 

Thor fought back the urge to gulp, and managed a smile. “That meeting went well, aye?”

“Cut the bullshit, Your Majesty,” Brunnhilde said, slamming her fist against the table so hard it made the papers fly. “You’re hurt.”

Keeping his face as stoic as possible, Thor shook his head. He inhaled sharply at the pain that pierced his temples as he did. “I’m alright.”

“Have you seen a healer since your fight with Hela?” Heimdall asked. His voice was much more controlled than Brunnhilde’s, but frankly, it frightened Thor more. It meant Heimdall had had time to think about his words. 

“Of course I have,” Thor scoffed. He was telling a half-truth. He  _ had _ visited the healers, but he’d told them Heimdall patched up his eye, which was a full-lie. No one but him had touched his back. Or the gashes on his abdomen. He’d forgotten about those. 

“So, you’re fine? You’ve been checked out, and you’re good to go,” Brunnhilde asked, sarcasm dripping from her voice like the blood Thor could feel starting to run down his spine.  _ Shit _ , he needed to rewrap. 

Thor huffed. “Aye. You don’t need to worry about me. I appreciate the concern, though.” 

Brunnhilde pursed her lips and cast a knowing look to Heimdall, who gave her a nod of what looked like permission. “Prove it.” 

“Pardon?”

“Prove you’re alright. Stand up,” she said. 

There was a smug look in her eye. She thought she had him. Thor was prepared to prove her wrong. 

“Sure thing.” 

He pressed his hands against the arms of his chair and pushed up. As soon as he moved, the wounds in his back hurt so badly his stomach turned. Black dots danced on the edges of his vision. His legs were still acting on his brain’s last command, but as soon as he was standing, the pain caught up with them. He hit the floor maybe half a second after that. 

Brunnhilde’s chair made an awful screech as she pushed it back and scrambled to his side. Heimdall followed suit, dropping to his knees by Thor’s head. Heat blossoming under his cheeks, Thor groaned and squeezed his eye shut. 

“I didn’t want you to collapse, your majesty,” Brunnhilde chided gently, pulling his head into her lap. She rubbed his temples with her thumbs. “Where are you hurt?” 

“My back and eye mostly,” he said, trying to push himself off Brunnhilde and into a seated position. Heimdall wordlessly kept him down with a hand on his shoulder. Thor frowned. “Let me up. I’m fine.”

Heimdall sighed. “Do you have a death wish, Thor? You’re bleeding, and you can barely stand. Stay down. You’re going to let us help you. I don’t care if you’re king.”

Thor pouted, which didn’t help his image, but relented. “You’re going to need to take off my armor,” he said, “Please be gentle.” 

Brunnhilde ran her fingers through Thor’s cropped hair. “Shh, shh. We’ll be gentle,” she said, “We’ll be gentle.” 

“Loki would make this easier,” Heimdall muttered like he’d just solved a crossword. He cupped Thor’s cheek briefly, then stared at the wall. His eyes went distant for a moment. Brunnhilde’s brows furrowed, but Thor knew. A faint smile found his lips. “Come down here, Loki...Yes, the council members are gone. Thor needs you.”

Loki materialized behind Brunnhilde with a roll of his eyes. “What have you done to yourself now, brother?”

Thor hummed. “Our sister did this, not me.” 

“No,” Heimdall chided, “this is now officially partially your fault. The moment you decided to lie about going to the healers, you made this your fault.” 

“You  _ didn’t  _ go to the healers?” Loki asked, his eyes blown wide. He sank to his knees. “Bloody idiot.” 

“His armor needs to come off, but I don’t want to hurt him,” Heimdall explained. “I thought you could…”

Thor gasped softly as Loki waved a hand over his torso. The freezing metal floor bit bare skin. Unsurprisingly, the cold didn’t help the gashes on his front, and the tension in his muscles made his back hurt even more. 

He clenched his jaw. “It’s freezing,” he said, teeth chattering. Loki waved his hand again, and a blanket appeared underneath him. Thor sighed and his whole body sunk into the warmth. “Thank you.”

“Did you wrap these yourself?” Brunnhilde asked, running her fingers down his back. He shivered under her touch and nodded. “You did a shit job.” 

Loki untied Thor’s hasty knots and pulled the blood-soaked bandages away from his skin. The wounds weren’t so deep to cause concern for his internal organs, but they needed stitches if they weren’t going to heal naturally. 

“Why haven’t they healed?” Brunnhilde asked. She kept her hand on the back of Thor’s head, rubbing her thumb in slow circles. “It’s been days now.”

Loki’s hand glowed a soft green, and he let it hover over Thor’s shoulders and back. Thor clenched his teeth and tensed up again as soon as Loki’s seidr probbed his wounds. 

“Hela’s blade must have been cursed,” Loki said, pulling his hand away. He rocked back on his haunches and slapped his hands against his knees. “The wounds will heal, but not as quickly as they should. And clearly, they’re impermeable to seidr. You need stitches.” 

Thor nodded. “Just do it,” he gritted out. The pain from Loki’s brief seidr inspection took its sweet time fading. “Quickly.” 

Loki conjured a first aid kit and pulled out a needle made specifically for breaking Aesir skin. It was pre-threaded and sterilized, so all Loki needed to do was start stitching. He found Thor’s hand with his non-dominant one and squeezed. “Try to stay still.”

“Yeah,” Thor whispered. 

Without a word, Brunnhilde took three strands of the hair by his temples and weaved them together with practiced skill. Thor settled closer to her thigh and let his stomach fall against the blanket. 

Loki took a breath and began. Thor tensed up the moment the needle pierced his skin, and sweat beaded across his brow. Heimdall found an uninjured spot on his back, far from where Loki was working, and rubbed there. Brunnhilde didn’t stop braiding even when Thor squirmed in her grip, whimpering and pushing involuntarily away from Loki. 

“Stay still,” Loki muttered, brows drawn. 

Heimdall sighed and pushed against Thor’s back, locking him in place. “Just a bit longer.” 

Thor squeezed his eye shut and balled the blanket under him into a fist. Brunnhilde started to braid more strands of his hair into a larger braid. Loki pulled the thread taunt and snipped it with his teeth. 

“That one’s done,” Loki said. His nimble fingers tied a tight knot in the string. “Ready to start the next one?”

Thor took a shuddering breath. “Aye.”

Brunnhilde pressed the back of her hand against his flushed forehead. “Hurry, Loki.”

Loki didn’t respond and instead began on the second gash, this one on the lower half of Thor’s back, right next to his spine. The room was silent save for Thor’s occasional whimpers and the overhanging hum of the ship’s mechanics. Skilled as he was, Loki was not perfect, and with one too-quick movement of his wrist, he drove the needle deeper into Thor’s back than it needed to go. 

Thor screamed, and lightning burst from his skin. Loki and Heimdall jumped back, but Brunnhilde didn’t move except for shutting her eyes—her hands stayed tangled in Thor’s hair. Thor sucked a deep breath in and released it in a shaky exhale. 

“I’m going to have to put you to sleep, Brother,” Loki said. His fingertips glowed a soft yellow. Though his touch was gentle against Thor’s temples, it was enough to send him into slumber. 

Thor woke up later in bed, wrapped in bandages and smelling of healing salves, with a start. The lack of his eye had startled him upon every waking since it happened. He was starting to wonder if he’d ever feel normal again. 

The one thing that was familiar, though, was Heimdall and Loki’s presence. They were both asleep, each of them in chairs to themselves. He smiled softly at them. His body ached all over, but the pain had already begun to lessen. He heard the latch of the door click, then Brunnhilde poked her head inside. Her eyes lit up when she saw him awake. 

“You’re awake,” she whispered, slipping fully into the room. Her smile was bright and genuine. “How do you feel?”

“Sore,” Thor answered honestly for once, “but better. How long was I out?”

“Just a couple hours. I think those two needed the sleep just as much as you did,” she said. She crossed the room and sat at the foot of his bed. “Maybe a little less, given the dark circles under your eyes.”

Thor hummed and looked to his remaining family. “I’m glad they found it. What about you, Valkyrie? Do you need sleep?”

Brunnhilde snorted. “I’ve been sleeping just fine, Your Majesty. That’s never been an issue for me.”

“I don’t know,” he said, tilting his head. His heart raced. “You look tired to me.”

Brunnhilde arched a brow. “Is this an invitation to sleep with you?”

Thor held out his hands. “In the most innocent sense, aye. Lie down.”

Brunnhilde rolled her eyes, but obliged him and crawled over to lie down by his side. She rested her cheek against his chest and he wrapped both arms around her. Innocent, maybe, but not without feeling. 

“Goodnight, Your Majesty,” she mumbled, already dragged down by sleep. 

Thor settled back into the pillow and laid his head on the top of Brunnhilde’s hair. “Goodnight.” 


End file.
